


The Protection of Lies

by vaguelyremarkable



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Character Death, Drinking, Humor, M/M, possible spoilers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguelyremarkable/pseuds/vaguelyremarkable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He supposes its time to tell his story, though it's nothing like the fairy tales. (dorian/iron bull)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Protection of Lies

Dorian Pavus hadn’t been the last customer at a bar for quite some time. He tended not to make a habit of drinking himself to an inevitable headache in the morning, but the circumstances had changed. The Inquisition was gone, disbanded. Dorian had now reserved the right to drink whenever and wherever he damn pleased.

“Wherever he damn pleased” happened to be a small bar in Redcliffe, the city where Dorian was currently staying.

“Another?” the bartender asked, gesturing at Dorian’s empty glass.

“If you would be so kind,” Dorian said, sliding the glass over to the dwarven female who ran the local bar with an iron fist. “I don’t suppose you’ve been counting?”

“I only count the coins, ‘Vinter, nothing else,” the bartender replied, re-filling his cup and setting it in front of him.

“That’s a relief,” Dorian said, the words muffled as he raised his mug to his lips. ‘I’d lose my sterling reputation if someone got ahold of my alcohol level tonight.”

“Well, you should probably spit out whatever you’re holding back there, might make it a little easier on your mind,” the bartender said, taking out a rag from behind her countertop and beginning to wipe down the bar.

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I doubt I would be coherent at this point,” Dorian responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’ve made sense of men worse off than you, ‘Vinter. Talking through this crap might just help you and I know from experience,” the bartender said, eyeing the mage.

“Oh no really, it’s quite dull,” Dorian said, dismissively. “I’m sure you’ll have heard far better.”

“That’s for me to judge, isn’t it? Start talking, ‘Vinter, or you can just pay now and walk your sorry ass home.”

“If you insist,” Dorian quipped. “I suppose it begins with the Inquisition and the Inquisitor but that part is dreadfully boring so I’ll give you a summary. The Inquisitor and I met up at Redcliffe to stop my unfortunately evil former mentor who attempted to use time magic, did not succeed and consequently was executed for his crimes. I decided to stay with the Inquisition after that because the weather here is just delightful.”

“You get three lies, ‘Vinter, and that counts as one of them,” the bartender interjected.

“Well now, that’s terribly rude, you didn’t tell me about that when we began!”

“I’ve told you now, haven't I? Keep going.”

Dorian muttered under his breath but continued on with his story.

“The Inquisition became my family, as maudlin as that sentiment is. Albeit, they were perplexing, often irritating and rather ill-dressed, except for Enchanter Vivienne, of course. However, they grew on me disturbingly quickly, now that I think about it. I haven’t seen most of them since the Inquisition was disbanded,” Dorian said absent-mindedly.

“And who is the person amongst them that you’re drinking yourself into a stupor for?” The bartender asked sagely, raising an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I was involved with someone in the Inquisition?”

“The fact that you just implied you were involved with someone,” the bartender answered, chuckling.

“I did not!”

“That’s two lies now, watch yourself, ‘Vinter,” the bartender warned him, as she scrubbed the countertop detachedly.

“If I may say so myself, your rules are distinctly unfair.”

“Alright, how about an easy question to start off with, then. What’s their name?” the bartender asked.

“Bull.”

“You’re shitting me with that one, ‘Vinter.”

“Why do people always have that reaction? He is a qunari by the name of Iron Bull, or at least that’s what he was called in the Inquisition. I suppose he might’ve been something different elsewhere,” Dorian said, lacing his fingers around his empty cup.

“And?” The bartender prompted when Dorian fell silent.

“And I’d like another drink?”

The bartender grabbed a glass from under the bar counter, filled it to the brim and then proceeded to chug it herself.

“Well, now that was just rude,” Dorian remarked.

“Finish your story, ‘Vinter, and then we’ll see about more drinks.”

“I do wonder how you make money if you hold all your customers hostage until they spill their deepest secrets,” Dorian declared, raising an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised. Keep going.”

“It wasn’t serious at first, although the sex was excellent and neither of us had any problem admitting that. I suppose you could call it blowing off steam or some other synonym thereof,” Dorian said, leaning back in his chair as the bartender finished wiping down the counter and tossed the rug back behind the bar. “However, later we began to.... re-consider the terms of our relationship.”

“Re-consider meaning what?”

“Well, instead of just sex, it was now sex with someone you actually cared about.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal,” the bartender remarked, pulling out a stool to sit on from behind the bar.

“It was. It was also the closest I will ever be to that sickening love that they write about in those terrible stories,” Dorian said, smiling faintly.

There was nothing to be said after that, so they sat in silence, watching the dying fire burn.

“I promised you a last drink, but you have to finish it, ‘Vinter. What happened between the two of you?” The bartender finally said, rousing herself from her daze.

“Alas, I’m afraid I’ve lost our game,” Dorian said, his brave smile trembling. “Three lies, remember? I do believe I have spent them all.”

“Not by my count. What was the third?” The bartender asked curiously.

Dorian pushed his glass to the other side of the counter.

“Is,” he said softly. “The lie was using is. Bull was killed during the final battle with Corypheus.”

The bartender bowed her head, but did not offer a condolence or empathy. She poured Dorian another drink and sat with him in silence until he finished it.

“Thank you for the drinks and your company but I really should be going. I truly appreciated this, much to my surprise. I hope you don’t mind if I pay in the morning? On my Tevinter honor, I promise I won’t forget,” Dorian said as he set his empty glass on the countertop and began gathering his things.

The bartender inclined her head in agreement.

“I’ll cover the last one, but the rest are on you, Pavus,” she said, standing as well.

“Understood,” Dorian said, a hint of a smile on his face.

The bartender watched him leave with an unreadable expression.

“Good man,” she said quietly, to the empty bar.

She washed the two glasses carefully and tucked them into a corner niche of the bar, an easy spot to find again should the Tevinter return to the bar tomorrow night.

She was not surprised when he did.  


**Author's Note:**

> Not totally happy with how this turned out, but I hope you enjoyed. ;) A comment or kudos if you liked is always appreciated!


End file.
